


Certain Conditions

by bandedbulbussnarfblat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 15:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20137711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandedbulbussnarfblat/pseuds/bandedbulbussnarfblat
Summary: Dean turned to face the demon. “Bela. Why am I not surprised?”





	Certain Conditions

**Author's Note:**

> Another old fic I started but never finished. Basically Dean makes a deal to save Sam after the end of season 8 with demon Bela.

It was a desperate, pointless gesture. There wasn’t a demon left who’d do business with a Winchester. But Dean had to try; he had to _try. _Sam was unconscious in the passenger seat beside him, skin sickly pale and faintly tinted blue. Dean had to keep reaching over and checking to be sure if he was still breathing. The pulse under his fingertips felt weak and sluggish, ceasing for long seconds before flitting back sporadically and dying down.

Sammy was dying. He was _dying_, and Dean didn’t know how to fix it.

There were angels falling and he didn’t know what was going on with Cas, but he couldn’t think about that now, there was enough to worry about with Sam. Save Sam, then worry about Cas.

It was raining, heavy drops sliding beneath his collar and wetting his neck. Droplets clung to his eyelashes, and the salty tinge on his tongue let him know that it wasn’t only rain dripping down his cheeks. He waited and he waited, eyes darting between Sam and the spot on the muddy, dirt road the demon should appear. Sam’s head rolled to one side in the car and Dean was moving back to him without thought when a voice rang out behind him “Am I fashionably late?”

“You’re way past that.” Dean turned to face the demon. “Bela. Why am I not surprised?”

It was definitely Bela; the hair was shorter with bangs framing her face, the clothes weren’t as pricey, and she was a little older, but it was same body she had as a human. Dean didn’t care to ponder how she managed to worm her way into that. She flashed a smile and her eyes went black. “The last time this many angels fell from the sky they were coming to drag you from Hell.”

No matter how many times Dean saw the black eyes, it was always unnerving to see them on someone you knew as human. Bela was no exception. Her eyes returned to their normal green and a wry smile slid over her face. “Could’ve gave a girl a lift on your way out.”

“You weren’t what I’d call a priority.”

A soft, mirthless laugh slipped past Bela’s lips. “No, I suppose not. Given our history.”

“You tried to kill Sam.” Dean said gruffly. It was the thing he told himself down in the Pit, watching Bela get torn apart. He could still hear the hiss of Alastair’s voice, feel his hot, rancid breath on his ear, feel his hands moving over his face in a mockery of a caress. Those hands that held him still and made him watch as Bela screamed and pleaded for mercy while Alastair whispered in his ear that it was _his _fault she was here, he could have saved her. Didn’t he know why she was here, why she made her deal? She asked for his help, but he left her to die.

“You more than made up for it.”

Her eyes were hard on his and Dean looked away, shoving his hands in his pocket. “We gonna do this thing or not?”

“Let me guess, Sam’s in trouble and you need me to make it go away.”

Dean grit his teeth, but didn’t say anything. Bela walked closer to him, until there was little space between them. “A Winchester making a deal for another Winchester. Some things never change.”

“Can you fix him or not?”

Bela shrugged lightly. “On certain conditions.”

“Ten years, you get my soul. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

Bela scoffed, a short, high laugh following behind it. “Ten years? As often as you boys die? I grant I’ll see you before then. But your soul? That’s just standard; I want something else. Something you can do for me.”

“Same old Bela.”

“I assume you have Crowley.”

“There’s this saying about people who assume things.”

Bela smiled brightly. “There’s this saying in Hell; when something goes wrong, blame the Winchesters.”

“So what, you want an exchange? Him for Sam?”

“No. A little birdy tells me you’re trying to turn him human.” Said Bela, hands coming rest on the lapels of Dean’s jacket. She looked up coyly through her lashes, a quirk of a smile on her face. “I want you to succeed.”

Dean scoffed. “You want to rule Hell.”

“I want to rule Hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably leaving this as a stand alone fic for now, but I may come back to it later


End file.
